He was wearing a light blue shirt with a long-sleeved dark blue Oxford buttoned over it and khaki carpenter pants. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as though he’d taken a nap or gone to bed with someone. I let my gaze fall to the table and tried not to imagine myself in that predicament.
“Want to slide over?”
“Of course.” I got up so that he could sit on the inside. I needed to keep an escape route open. “Are you going to participate?”
“I don’t know. You?”
“Looks like it.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled.” He leaned closer to me and whispered, “I don’t think they force you to get on stage. It really is optional.”
I played with the stem of one of Sam’s glasses. “I know. Sam kind of convinced me to get involved.”
Max shrugged. “Well, I promise not to laugh too hard.”
“Thanks so much.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He pinched me lightly, and I struggled to hold my own. I poked him in gut—what little gut he had.
“I hope you and April don’t gang up on me when she gets here,” he said. “I bruise easily. There she is. Better scoot over.”
My neck snapped up so fast that I considered suing Max’s insurance company for whiplash. April was walking into the club. I’d had to leave the cabin before she was dressed, so I was curious to see what she’d put on. She was wearing low-slung leather pants and a tank top. Though she was my best friend, I still hated her a little for being able to pull it off so well.
April sped up when she saw me, but I could swear that her gaze focused on Max. “Is there room for one more in this booth?”
Sam jolted to his feet. “Of course.”
April sat next to Max, and then Sam slid back in to close the gap.
“Max Walker,” she said. “Isn’t this a pleasure?”
“Not really,” he said cheekily. “You’re distracting me from the singer.”
Sam was staring at April’s lips as they moved, and licking his lips every time she tilted her head or ran her fingers through her blonde hair. He cleared his throat.
April turned to look at him. “Hi, boss.”
Sam’s smile got larger and, as April leaned closer to him, it was doubtful that his smile was the only thing growing. “You’re looking great again.”
I looked at April warily. “Again?”
Max abruptly called the waitress over. “What’s everyone drinking?”
April pointed at Sam’s Rainbow Volcano. “That looks pretty good.”
Sam perked up. “A round of Volcanoes!”
The waitress piled the empty glasses on her tray, then left to fill our drink order. Sam never removed his eyes from April. He slapped the table with the palm of his hand. “Who wants to go first?”
I tried to sink into the seat cushions, and I noticed that Max wasn’t volunteering, either.
April, on the other hand, was kind enough to reply. “You mean to sing?”
“Yeah! You want to do a duet with me?”
“I think I need to get a feel for the whole karaoke scene before I jump in.”
Sam’s gaze turned on me.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” I moved down the banquet and almost escaped when someone gripped my arm. I looked back over my shoulder.
Max was grinning. “Where ya going, Kate?”
“I think I drank too much.”
He shook his head. “Ah, but it’s time to pay the piper.”
“I can’t. I’ve changed my mind.”
The waitress came back with our drinks. Sam grabbed his, drank half of it, then slammed it on the table. “You’re a bunch of wusses. I’ll go.”
“You’ll be the best, anyway,” I said. “You’ll make us all look bad.”
Sam nodded, exited the booth, and made for the stage.
Max laughed. “That’s one way of shutting Sam up. Appeasing his ego.”
“Yeah,” I said, laughing with him as though it had been a joke and not another pathetic attempt to ingratiate myself to Sam.
Sam climbed onto the stage and marched right up the DJ. His voice wasn’t audible from where we were sitting, but he was speaking very quickly and moving his hands in an extremely agitated manner.
The DJ had to step back, even though the music console separated them.
Sam stepped up to the microphone and started tapping it. “Testing, testing.”
The DJ shook his head.
Sam ignored him. “Testing, testing.”
Waving his fist at Sam, the DJ abruptly turned the music on and the opening strains to what sounded like a rap song blared through the club.
I turned to Max. “That’s not ‘Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems,’ is it?”
“I’m afraid so. It’s his favorite.”
Sam started to do a little dance, moving his hips from side to side. He was totally out of sync with the rhythm of the music. He looked like one of those hula dancer dolls on the dashboard of a pick-up truck going a hundred miles an hour. “Who’s sexy, who’s not sexy? Tell me who bought, my album in the stores...”
“That’s just wrong,” Max said.
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” I shook my head. “He’s your friend. Can you explain that?”
“Some things can’t be explained.”
April whipped the umbrella out of her Rainbow Volcano. “I think I know how Sam feels. These drinks are making me want to imitate Christina Aguilera.”
I sipped my own drink. “‘Dirrty’ Christina or ‘Genie in a Bottle’ Christina?”
“Definitely ‘Dirrty’ Christina.”
Max grinned. “Then I suggest you keep drinking and start planning your entrance.”
I growled and gave April the hairy eyeball until Sam’s high-pitched chorus demanded my attention. He was now dancing energetically across the small stage. He reached the end of his microphone tether countless times, backtracked, then danced to the end again. “The mo’ money I got, the worse it seems...”
“That doesn’t sound right,” April said.
I started to notice the reactions of the other people in the club. Some were laughing, but good-naturedly. They thought Sam was being intentionally funny. Only we knew otherwise.
Sam spun around, then bent his knees while spreading them apart and bounced up and down a few times. Then he started to pace again, bobbing his head to the beat.
“I can’t watch,” I said, turning back to Max.
Max had been saying something quietly to April while she nodded. She had a pleased look on her face. Max looked up when I spoke to him. “I’m surprised you lasted this long.”
I shrugged, sucking more of my sweet, icy drink through its neon pink straw.
Sam’s song finished and he skipped off the stage. There was some undeserved applause, again from people that likely thought it was a comedic act rather than a real attempt to emulate.
He shuffled back to our table. “How was I?”
Max mumbled something unintelligible while nodding and focusing on his drink.
Sam eyed the ten inches of seat left on April’s side of the booth.
“Why don’t you sit next to me?” I suggested, smiling and moving over.
“That’s all right. Wouldn’t want to crowd you,” he said, shaking his head at the thought. Instead, he forced himself into the small space next to April.
April looked at him, elbows tight against her body, upper arms squeezing her breasts together so that they were practically popping out of her tank top. “Good job, Sam. You could have a real career in rap music.”
Staring intently at April’s chest, Sam nodded.
I leaned across the table. “I thought you were great, Sam. I swear, you sounded just like Biggie Smalls.”
He preened. “You think so? I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”
“Pretty good? That was incredible!”
I leaned back against the cushions, wondering where I’d dropped my self-respect. A stiff breeze must ha
ve carried it off the last time I was loitering on the top deck of the ship.
Sam was waving excitedly at me. “Good news, Kate! While I was up there, I noticed they had your song.”
“What?”
“They have ‘Nothing Else Matters,’ like you wanted.”
I knew Max had started to pay attention again, so I tried to appear as normal as possible under the circumstances. So what if I couldn’t feel my legs?
“Isn’t it great?” Sam was saying, the sleeves of his shirt soaking up the condensation on the table.
“Perfect!” I exclaimed a little too enthusiastically.
Max looked at me as though I was wearing my underwear on my head.
“Why don’t you go now?” Sam pointed at the stage. “No one’s on stage!”
“Okay!” I jumped up. What did I have to lose anyway? Max was completely ignoring me. Not that that I would be jealous if he and April hooked up. I disapproved purely on the grounds of compatibility. And I didn’t like being ignored, even by men who I had absolutely no interest in.
I hurried up to the DJ before I lost my nerve. “‘Nothing Else Matters,’ by Metallica, please.”
I climbed onto the stage and tried not to look at anyone. The music started. One of the good things about the song I’d chosen was the instrumental beginning. It gave me a chance to get my bearings. I felt a little weird standing there, so I swayed from side to side to the rhythm of the music.
Then the lyrics came up on the screen and I started to sing quietly. It was probably more like speaking with a slight melodic lilt.
I caught Max’s eye and smiled weakly. He nodded encouragingly.
I tried not to stutter and kept my gaze on the lyrics screen, even though I knew the words without assistance. After the next few lines, I started to feel more comfortable. It wasn’t that bad, I supposed. No one was heckling me or laughing hysterically. I could do this.
The next part was a guitar solo, so once again I tried to move subtly to the music. At this point, the movement was making me a little dizzy. I briefly imagined how I might look to the other people in the room. My ‘subtle swaying’ might be their ‘drunken wobbling.’ Oh well.
The lyrics were starting again. So I sang. The next verse I sung louder, and some people clapped with appreciation. I was looking at Max then.
The confidence in me grew and started to overtake my common sense. I started the next part with even more gusto. “Yeah!”
The second guitar solo started and it was even better than the first. It was the kind of guitar playing that gets you out of your seat. I, however, was already standing.
So really, how could I help what happened next? With the bright lights shining in my face, I could barely see the crowd sitting below. That combined with the amount of alcohol I’d consumed made it all seem like a crazy, wacky dream.
I started to play the air guitar.
The sounds of appreciation coming from the audience only egged me on. I arched my back, held my invisible guitar, and strummed elaborate chords. It’s not like I knew anything about actually playing the guitar. Except for that one summer my best friend and I watched Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure almost every day.
I played my guitar for the whole solo, really getting into it by the end. Then the lyrics started up again. I was so hyper that I mumbled my way through them and was soon stumbling off the stage. I saw people smiling up at me as I wound through tables to get back to my own, but I had tunnel vision. If I didn’t sit down soon, I was going to be sick.
April was giggling uncontrollably, Sam was gazing at me with admiration, and Max actually looked a little concerned.
I stumbled into my seat. “What’d you guys think?”
April snorted. “Oh my God.”
“I know. I rocked!”
“Yeah! Especially the part where you leaned back, plucked chords faster than Edie Van Halen and scrunched up your face in the pure ecstasy of the moment.”
Still gazing at me, Sam said, “You were great. Everyone loved it.”
I tried looking at the other people in the club to see if they were whispering and pointing or smiling in good humor. Unfortunately, all their faces blurred before my eyes.
“You did well.” Max was patting me on the back. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Are you okay?”
“Who, me?” I asked, the table suddenly coming into focus, then out again.
“You’d better take her to bed, April,” Max said.
Sam’s laugh echoed through my head. “Are you sure you don’t want to do it, my friend?”
“Go back to your drink,” Max replied.
April pushed Sam out of the way to escape the booth. “Come on, Slash. Let’s get you to bed.”
I tried to focus on my companions. Sam was sitting in front of me, so I gave him a thumbs-up. I wanted to turn towards Max, but instead I leaned into him and put my head on his shoulder. “Bye,” I whispered. “It was nice seeing you.”
His hand caressed my hair. “You, too, Kate. Hope you feel better.”
I nodded, then dragged myself out of the booth.
April hooked her arm around mine. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind taking me? I could go by myself if you want to stay with Max. I know how much you like being with Max. I saw you that night you were sneaking around to be with Max.”
We walked out into the hallway, which was five times brighter than the club. April winced. “Okay, I know his name. And what are you talking about?”
“I saw you at the customer relations desk three nights ago. You wanted to know Max’s room number.”
“You’re drunk. We’ll talk in the morning.
“Oh, I’m fine!” I walked a straight line in front of the elevator. “See?”
She pressed the call button. “Uh-huh.”
I shrugged. “I think the bright lights are sobering me up.”
“Careful there,” she said, holding me up by my armpits after I’d lost my balance gazing at the recessed lights in the ceiling.
“Why are they so hypnotizing? Like UFOs...”
The elevator came and she dragged me inside. When we finally got to the cabin, I swiped my ship card through the slot. “It’s not working.”
“That’s your passport, doofus.”
I grabbed one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulled her closer. “Just tell me this: how good a friend are you? ‘Pay the bar tab’ good, or ‘help hide the body’ good?”
“Can you please let me open the door?”
“I’m this close to strangling Sam, so it’s an important question.”
She opened the door and pulled me inside. Then she unceremoniously pushed me toward the bed.
I fell onto it backwards then gazed up at the ceiling. “I’m not that drunk. I’d feel better if the seas weren’t so rough.”
April laughed. “The seas are as calm as an indoor swimming pool. Get some sleep.”
“Where are you going?” I asked her, realizing that she wasn’t moving toward her bed but toward the door.
“I’m too wound up to sleep. I’m going to find something to do.”
I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling nauseated. “If you have sex with Max, I’ll throw you overboard. Don’t test me.”
“I thought you didn’t like him.”
“Don’t test me.” I flopped over onto my stomach and groaned.
“Listen,” she said, farther away now. “If you kill someone, I’ll help you hide the body. I’ll even dig the hole. Now that’s friendship.”
I smiled into my pillow. “I think you are the best friend a girl could have.”
“Goodnight, Kate,” she said and left the cabin.
Then I frowned. She’d never promised she wouldn’t sleep with Max.
Chapter Eleven
SEVEN-DAY CARIBBEAN CRUISE: Eight hundred dollars.
Two Rainbow Volcanoes: Sixteen dollars.
Making a fool out of yourself in front of countless strangers: Pri
celess.
Okay, so I may have made some bad decisions the night before. I may have said some things I’d regret. But I woke up without an extra person in my bed, which is more than I can say for some regrettable evenings in my past.
I opened my eyes and was happy to see that the bathroom door was open and the light was on. I was actually able to see for once. I looked over at April’s bed and it was empty. I sat up quickly.
Too quickly, I realized immediately, and squeezed my eyes shut while I pressed hard on my temples. I didn’t think I’d even packed any over-the-counter painkillers. I wasn’t the best planner. I was going to have to fight through the headache, though, because I had a job to do.
I was going to go to Max’s room and see if April was there. Maybe I could catch her in the act. After all, her bed hadn’t been slept in. She had to be somewhere.
So I picked my pants up off the floor, put them on, then a t-shirt. I had no time for pleasantries, like showers or clean clothing. I wanted to know if April had anything going on with Max. And I wanted to know right away.
I left my room, pulled the door shut, and walked right into Max’s chest. Speak of the devil.
“Whoa, Kate. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Of course he would look good so early in the morning, his hair still wet from the shower and his cheeks smoothly shaven. I took a step back. “I was going to see April. What are you doing skulking about at this hour?”
“What hour? It’s noon.”
“Oh.” I rubbed my head. Nope, didn’t quite feel like myself yet.
“And I’m not skulking. I came to see you.”
“Me?” I looked down at my day-old pants and cringed. “I suggest you don’t look too closely.”
“I see nothing to complain about.”
A familiar feeling filled my stomach and I wasn’t sure I wanted it to go away. All I know is I was supposed to be confronting April right now, but the longer I spoke to Max, the less confrontational I felt.
“We docked in St. Maarten this morning. I thought it would be nice if we could go exploring together. Just the two of us this time.”
Was this some sort of conspiracy? Maybe Max was going to take me out to prevent me from getting the truth from April. Then they’d return to plan their next trick on me, cackling joyously at my naïveté. I shook my head. Now I was being stupid.
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